


Ryxl? What kind of name is that?

by Ryxl



Series: Ryxlverse [1]
Category: World of Warcraft
Genre: Alternate Timeline, Flashbacks, Gen, Off-screen Rape, Original Character(s), Raptors, Self-Discovery, Violence, self-inflicted harm, trollish voodoo
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-02-21
Updated: 2013-02-21
Packaged: 2017-12-03 04:22:56
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 10,454
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/694071
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ryxl/pseuds/Ryxl
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Every young orc starts out proving him- or herself in the Valley of Trials, and Ryxl is no exception. She's just an average orc eager to become a warrior of the Horde after her childhood in Stranglethorn Vale, learning trollish voodoo and growing up with raptors for neighbors. Okay, maybe she's not an average orc, but it's what an orc does after proving herself that defines her, right? It's not like any orc's life has ever been shaped by the actions of their parents...</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Search for a war raptor: Rex

**Author's Note:**

> Original characters in WoW are a special thing. Even though WoW is an MMO, the quests assume that only your character has ever done anything noteworthy. The game, through completing quests, turns every character into a hero that pushes the boundary of believable; to claim that your character actually did the things the game says you did would make your character the worst kind of Mary Sue or Gary Stu...if you assume other players exist in the world. Luckily, the presence of alternate timelines is a canon fact for WoW, and this is one of them.

"Ryxl? What kind of name is that?"

One green hand tightened around the handle of the young orc's axe. Ryxl reminded herself that maiming the recruit officer would only hurt her career, and slowly let go. "It's the name my father gave me. Or so I'm told."

The pompous orc looked down his nose at her. "And where did he come up with a name like that?"

"I don't know." Ryxl gave him her best troll grin, teeth displayed prominently. "He wasn't able to say much more with mother's knife in his throat like that." After years of answering the same questions, she'd honed the answers into phrases that were both short, and likely to prevent other questions. The recruit officer's eyes widened slightly. _Ah, another orc without the balls for real battle. Bet he'd piss himself if the Warchief sent him out into the world. Well, at least he won't dare make a move on me._ Her smile widened into a predatory leer, strengthening the psychological advantage, and the older orc coughed and shuffled papers around to cover his unease.

"Well, everything seems to be in order. Here's your letter, just give it to Kaltunk in the Valley of Trials. Follow the road south and you can't miss it. For the Horde!"

Ryxl took the letter, amused that the other orc wouldn't - or couldn't - meet her eyes, and walked out.

==================================

_"Mama, Mama! Tell me the story again!"_

_Kalika Ironheart settled on the edge of her daugher's bunk with a tolerant smile. "Very well, but then it's time for sleeping."_

_Eyes wide, the girl-child pulled the blankets up to her chin and settled in to listen as her mother told the tale. She'd heard the it before, many times, but she loved the way her mother looked so fierce when telling it._

_"...so when I realized what that foul warlock had done, I set off to find him. I tracked him through the Burning Steppes and into the heart of Blackrock Mountain itself. The Blackrock orcs who defy our Warchief tried to stop me, but I cut them down one by one until finally..." Kalika paused for dramatic effect. "...HE came out to see what the disturbance was. His cursed demon strutted at his side as he walked the length of the hall to me, kicking pieces of his subordinates out of the way. His filthy, demonic spells wound around me, holding me in place and touching me with their vile tendrils. 'Why, Kalika,' he said to me, 'you came back!' 'You knocked me up, you piece of shit,' I told him. 'How marvelous,' he said. He put his hands on my belly, and I shuddered at his foul touch." Here, the orc matron paused to give her daughter a bloodthirsty grin, and the young girl did her best to mimic it. "He didn't know about the knife I had up my sleeve. He said, 'If it's a girl, I'll name her rhksll-!'" The orc woman made a strangled sound, miming clutching motions at her neck. "He couldn't speak very well with my knife in his throat, you see. 'And if it's a boy?' I asked. 'Mrgbl' was all he said. 'I'm going home,' I told him. 'You don't mind do you?' ...he must not have minded, because he lay down to take a nap and never got up."_

_The orc-child giggled. "And that's how I got my name, right?"_

_Kalika smoothed her daughter's hair. "That's how you got your name. Good thing you weren't a boy, or people would mistake you for a murloc. Now, the moral of this story is...?"_

_"Don't let the filthy male orcs touch me, or I'll get knocked up and have to kill them."_

_"Good girl! Now go to sleep, and in the morning, you can watch Ginnalka make a shrunken head."_

_Ryxl obediently closed her eyes, and Kalika kissed her on the forehead before standing up. She watched her daughter for a minute, then left the room once she knew the girl was asleep._

==================================

The road ran as a beaten track between low hills of red earth and carved its way through cliffs of equally red sandstone. Ryxl loped down it easily, unbothered by the heat but squinting against the sun. She could see signs of wildlife to either side of the road, and hear screeching echoing in the canyons, but did not stop. After the lush riot of greenery in Stranglethorn Vale, the small stands of prickly plants huddled in the parched air made her feel like she was running through another world. The canyon ended suddenly, leaving the young orc in a brief no-man's-land before a small town. The orcs guarding the gate were no strangers to battle, judging by their scars and the familiar way they hefted their weapons, and Ryxl could see them assess her as she trotted up.

_Young, but no stranger to hard work. Not tall, but not fully grown either, and not gangly or thin. Worn clothes, worn axe and bow, ears pierced in three places each and ringed with gold. Hair long, but up in a long tail, scalp shaved bare everywhere else. Yes, I know what I look like, and I do know how to use the axe, thank you very much._ She met the eyes of each guard in turn, one hand resting easily on the handle of her axe, mirroring their alert stance with the ease of familiarity. They nodded at her, acknowledging her as being no helpless civilian.

"Throm'ka, young orc! Welcome to Razor Hill." The one on the right gestured behind him, while the one on the left resumed his watchful position. Behind them, a equally-scarred female in a guard's uniform strode past on patrol.

"I'm looking for the Valley of Trials," Ryxl said warily. _Did that pompous ass give me the wrong directions?_

The guard on the right grinned. "Of course. Straight through town, keep going south. Follow the western fork, or you'll wind up in Sen'jin."

Ryxl nodded her thanks, and walked through the gate.

==================================

_"Ryxl?" The guard poked her head into the barracks, where the teenaged orc was sharpening her worn axe. She stepped into the room and waited for the girl to put the weapon down before continuing. "It's about your mother."_

_The younger orc bit her lip briefly. "What happened?"_

_"Se'Jib saw it happen," the guard said, uncomfortable with the whole conversation. She turned and waved, and the old troll came in to squat comfortably next to the girl._

_"Ah be seein' it all, mon," he said, he trollish accent so thick that the guard had a hard time making it out. "Yer modder, she be tough as nahls, but dah raptah, 'e be hungrey. 'E tink she be foh eatin', an' 'e help 'imself. She be wit dah spirits nah."_

_Ryxl nodded, seemingly unaffected by this news. "Which raptor was it dat did da deed?"_

_The old troll grinned at Ryxl's comfort with the accent. If nothing else, here was proof that orcs could be taught how to speak properly if raised right. "'E be ah big violet monstah. Notin' smallah could evah get yah modder."_

_The young orc returned Se'Jib's grin. "An' did he eat her heart?"_

_Se'Jib laughed. "Dat 'e did! 'E be king o' da raptah nah foh shoah, an' Tetis best be watchin' 'is back!"_

_Old troll and young orc laughed together for a minute at the thought of the great blue raptor Tethis being overthrown by the purple raptor who had eaten Kalika Ironheart and gained her strength. The guard, who was new to Grom'gol, thought longingly of a transfer back to Ogrimmar._

_"So what happens to me now?" asked Ryxl, looking at the guard._

_"Well, you can stay here if you want...but there's a letter of recommendation with your name on it if you'd like to go to Durotar and become a warrior of the Horde."_

==================================

The Valley of Trials turned out to be more of a box canyon than a valley, with a small permanent camp set up in the middle, and other would-be heroes running about killing boars or gathering fruit from the prickly plants. Ryxl loped down the path to the orc the guard had directed her to, trying to emulate the arrogant aloofness of the jungle panther as she ignored some young orc male trying to get her attention.

"Yes?" Kaltunk turned as she trotted up, taking in her dusty appearance and her build in one appraising glance. Ryxl held out the letter the recruit officer had given her, and let it speak for her. Kaltunk broke the seal and skimmed the contents for a moment, then returned his attention to the orc standing before him. "So, Ryxl, you are of age...of age to battle in the name of the Horde. To conquer for the glory of the Warchief. Yes..." His gaze flicked down to her well-used axe, and the muscle on the arm that held it. "You will do nicely. No doubt you wish to find a great dragon or demon and strangle it with your bare hands, but perhaps it would be wise to start on something less... dangerous." He laughed at her expression. "No? Not wanting to throw yourself head-first into the maw of a mighty beast to prove yourself? Well then, go report to Gornek. He'll assign you tasks to assess your skills. You will find Gornek in the Den, to the west." Kaltunk gestured, then turned his attention to a young troll that had run over.

Ryxl trotted over to the cave Kaltunk had indicated, and calmly accepted the petty tasks given to her. The boars and scorpids in the valley were easy to kill, compared with things she'd tangled with in Stranglethorn Vale, and she was soon given more difficult tasks. After a day or two, the troll Jen'shan sent for her and told her that hers would be the path of the hunter. Ryxl rejoiced. Jen'shan explained what it was like to be a hunter, and hearing the familiar trollish lilt brought a slice of home to the arid training camp. They squatted together in the shade, talking of bows and beasts, and Jen'shan didn't blink when Ryxl's orcish slipped into the same trollish cadences.

After that meeting, Ryxl threw herself into her tasks with more enthusiasm and returned often to receive training with the troll huntress. She was dispatched to Sen'jin and Razor Hill in due course as her skills improved, more than willing to run errands or kill centaurs to prove herself. Anything to aid the Horde, the only family she had. Finally the day came when her new mentor Thotar summoned her back to Razor Hill to learn how to tame beasts. The young orc listened closely to the other hunter's directions, and soon progressed past the need for material props to help her perform the taming magics. She dutifully bent crab, boar, and scorpid to her will and taught them to obey the commands that had been taught to her. While she exulted in the power it gave her to have the beast bow itself beneath her hand, they were only placeholders. Ryxl already knew what type of creature she wanted at her side.

Finally, Thotar declared her ready and sent her to Ormak Grimshot in Orgrimmar. She'd seen the city in the distance when she arrived from Grom'gol, but hadn't had the chance to enter it yet. The presence of so many unfamiliar orc males made her nervous, but a challenging look and a sharp axe warded the curious away; most of them went about their business without looking twice at her. Ormak, naturally, was the type of orc who saw her as a young warrior rather than a young woman - and was certainly not one of the filthy males her mother had always warned her about. He taught her the magics that would let her heal the beast she tamed, and return its spirit to its body if it was slain. How to feed the beast while still maintaining control, and gain its loyalty. Ryxl absorbed the knowledge like a sponge, and when he had no more to teach, she set out for the vast plains of the Barrens.

==================================

The Barrens were as hot and arid as Durotar had been, but with more life. The red raptor she'd bent to her will trotted at her side, thinking of her as some kind of strange, tailless raptor who might - if he was lucky - mate with him and make him the alpha male of her pack. Ryxl patted his head with the affection that an artisan gives to his first attempts. He was a start, and certainly better than a boar, but she didn't intend to keep the young beast for long. Inside her vest was a letter sending her to the city of Crossroads for further instructions, and the road stretched before her. The heat was comforting and familiar, but she wished for the humid shadows of Stranglethorn. As orc and raptor came up on a ridge of earth, a familiar shape seen out of the corner of one eye, a flicker of motion, a flash of color stopped Ryxl in her tracks. The red raptor made an uncertain sound, and she hushed it, watching the ridge of earth. Was that...?

The head of a purple raptor crested the ridge. It was. Almost absently, Ryxl drew her dagger and slit the throat of the red raptor at her side. The purple head - identical to the ones she'd seen so often in Stranglethorn - came up as the scent of blood filled the air, and Ryxl stood very, very still. In one hand, the hunter's magic curled, ready to soothe the beast. In the other, the knife dripping raptor blood glinted faintly with the voodoo she'd learned as a child, reaching out to the purple raptor's spirit. The red raptor collapsed, looking at her in confusion, and she silently apologized to it as she took its strength. The purple raptor edged closer, not sure what she was yet. Ryxl remained still, and after a minute the raptor edged closer still and began lapping at the blood of her former pet.

In an instant, both hands were on his head, the magic weaving around and through him. The knife nicked his jaw, and blood mingled with blood. The slain raptor's spirit mixed with his, promising strength if he submitted. The hunter's magic blinded him, dulling his sense of smell, so that he could not sense what Ryxl was. With one hand she entreated; with the other, she intimidated. It didn't take long before the poor raptor submitted, shivering beneath her touch, confused and frightened. She spoke to him softly then, stroking and crooning, and when the magic faded she was the alpha female of his pack.

"You see?" she whispered to the corpse of the red raptor as she cut out its heart. "It not be so bad, ya? You go wit him, you stay wit me." The purple raptor quivered in delight as his packleader fed him the tasty morsel. She stroked his head, noting that he was an adolescent like her. "I'll call you Rex."

Rex, not understanding anything but the tone, wiggled in pleasure that his packleader was happy with him.

==================================

Zjolnir turned Rex's head firmly this way and that, ignoring the raptor's attempts to snap at him or break free of the troll's grip. "A war raptor, ya say?"

Ryxl nodded, watching the raptor trainer at work. "Can you do it? I know he's not fully grown yet..."

The troll released Rex's head, giving him a slap on the flank that made the raptor squawk and retreat behind his packleader in confusion. "He gonna be big enough, dat not gonna be a problem."

"Then something else is going to be?" The young orc asked, absently soothing her raptor.

"I tink you got him too young, mon. I can train him, but da spirit o' da war raptor be a tricky ting. Witout da spirit, he nevah gonna be more dan just a ridin' raptor." Zjolnir gestured to the well-behaved raptors tethered behind him.

Ryxl nodded, chewing on her lower lip absently for a moment. "Do it. I gonna find me a new raptor while Rex get his trainin'. She gave the raptor a critical look, unaware that her orcish had slipped back into a trollish accent. "You got any raptors around here dat earned dere own names? Ones dat might have da spirit o' da war raptor?"

The troll grinned toothily. "You be askin' about Takk da Leaper," he said. "You wanna catch him, go up north by da bog da Venture Company got up dere. But you gotta be quick, mon. Dat one, he be dark as a shadow and quick as da wind. You catch him, he be a fine war raptor."

The orc nodded again and nudged Rex over to Zjolnir. "I be back. Not sure when, but I be back."

Rex watched in confusion as his packleader ran off without him.

==================================

The black raptor proved to be every bit as elusive as promised. Ryxl tried traps and snares, but the beast leaped over them or dashed around them. She tried charms to increase her speed, to make her harder to detect, to hide her scent - but Takk saw through them, scented her, and was faster than the best voodoo could make her. In the end, it was a deception that granted her victory. The carcasses of three Barrens beasts covered her head to toe in dripping, bloody meat. Beneath her stinking disguise, Ryxl held very, very still and waited. Other predators came up for a bite, but a swift poke with a dagger was enough to send them scurrying away. Finally, she saw Takk edge out of the shadow of the nearby mountain's foot, and watched him watch her. He circled around the pile, edging closer once or twice and then dashing off in the other direction, making sure no other raptor or lion was going to challenge him. It took the better part of an hour for him to be satisfied that he would not be interrupted, and when he finally approached Ryxl, it was with a speed that startled her. The raptor sniffed the offering of meat, licking at one bit or another, and Ryxl held her breath as the raptor fed on the meat, his clawed feet tapping nervously just in front of her face. The blood and hot flesh covered her scent, but who knows how long Takk would be fooled. Summoning the hunter's magic quietly, the blood-soaked orc reached out and latched onto the raptor's left leg with both hands.

Takk reared and screamed in fear, trying to back away from the treacherous meal but hampered by the orc attached to his leg. He bent down to claw her, to bite her - but his forelegs were too short, his chest too deep. He could not reach her. He leaped into the air, trying to dislodge her, but her weight was too much. He tried to run, but couldn't get very far. And all the while, the hunter's magic encircled him, weaving a net of compliance underneath his skin. In less than a minute, the black raptor shuddered and panted in exhausted fear, but did not run when Ryxl let go and stood up. As she had with Rex, she ran her hands over his smooth hide and uttered soothing nonsense to impress her touch and voice on him. Takk's spirit was much stronger than Rex's, however, and the raptor glared at her as though insulted.

Ryxl grinned toothily at him. "You not be taken in by sweet words, huh?" She cut a hand-sized bit of meat from her stinking pile of corpses. "We do dis da long way, den. Here. You be hungry enough; eat."

Takk eyed her resentfully before snapping the meat up with blinding speed. The orc laughed, cutting another chunk that was likewise inhaled. Ryxl fed the raptor until he was no longer interested in the meat she held. She stroked his head and shoulders, dried blood flaking from her fingers, and between the fight and the food he did not have the energy to do more than just whine sullenly. She led him off towards the river that marked the border of Durotar, and he followed - reluctantly. Whether the reluctance was for following her or because he wanted to sleep after gorging himself, he did still follow the orc to the water and then into the water. The water was warm, but without the salt tang Ryxl was used to. She washed both herself and the raptor, making sure no dried blood remained before camping on the shore. Takk curled up against a tree readily enough, and seemed too tired to protest when she used his warm bulk as a pillow.

_It will take time to earn his trust,_ Ryxl thought as she drifted off, _but what a mount he would make some day!_

==================================

Rex had no sense of time, being a raptor, but he knew it had been far too long since he had seen his packleader. Not that he was unhappy where he was; the other raptors accepted him easily and there were a few females who didn't seem to mind his interest, but the voodoo had done its job well and he still saw Ryxl as being his packleader. When the normally well-behaved raptor stamped restlessly and kept craning his head around to the north, Zjolnir knew why and was unsurprised when Ryxl trotted up with a lithe black shape following her.

"It been too long, mon!" He called cheerfully, grasping her forearm in a warrior's greeting. "Dat raptor you left couple o' seasons ago been real easy, he take to da trainin' like a fish ta water. He gonna be a good mount, but he never gonna be a war raptor."

Ryxl returned the troll's greeting, and grimaced. Rex wiggled and stamped in excitement, and she soothed him absently.

"'Ey," Zjolnir said, noting her expression. "He be young an' healty. I know you be wantin' a war raptor, not a tame riding beast. If you want, mon, I keep him here and breed him wit' a few females. He be a lover, not a fighter."

"Take him," the orc said dismissively, fingers curled around the invisible ties of the voodoo she'd ensnared the young raptor with. One sharp twisting motion, and they shattered.

Rex blinked a few times and wandered away, more interested in the blue female making eyes at him than the two-legs standing by the pack-trainer. Once he was out of the way, Takk sidled up to take his rightful place at Ryxl's side, and she rested one hand on his shoulder. It had taken more than a moon to gain his loyalty, but it was worth it once she had. Zjolnir's eyes widened.

"Is that...did you...?" He stopped and shook his head. "Dat be Takk da Leaper, or I be a gnome." The raptor looked at him, hearing his name. Troll and beast shared a long look, each taking the measure of the other. "I never tought I would see da day dat Takk da Leaper would stand still for any hunter," Zjolnir said slowly, tearing his gaze away from the agile black beast. "You be good, orc. I tell you what. You let me take him, I train him ta be a war raptor, an' I teach you how ta do it." Hesitantly, waiting for the raptor's permission, he ran one hand lightly down the beast's flank. "Dis one...da trainin' got ta go slow, he be no one's fool. He not be ready ta ride inta battle for a few seasons, but when he is...I swear on my spirit, you not gonna find a better steed."

Ryxl's brows drew together. "How much dis trainin' gonna cost? You can keep Rex, do whatever you want wit' him, but he can't be worth as much as training Takk."

"You be right, girl. He not wort' as much as trainin' Takk." Zjolnir ran appreciative eyes over the black raptor again. "But you got sometin' more valuable you can give me."

"An' what dat gona be?" The young orc crossed her arms, waiting with sour amusement for the answer.

The troll grinned. "Da experience o' trainin' dis black beauty. No amount o' gold could buy dat. Turnin' Takk da Leaper inta a war raptor! No one else gonna ever be able ta do dat! You let me train him, mebbe he sire a few young if da ladies like him, and dat be so valuable dat _I_ gonna owe _you_ \- and in payment, I teach you how ta make a raptor let you ride. You gonna need another raptor to fight with while I train Takk; I'll teach you how to make dat one a mount until Takk be ready for you."

Ryxl thought about finding another raptor with a war spirit, something she could fight with and possibly ride until Takk was a true war raptor. After a moment, a toothy grin split her face.

"You got a deal, mon," she said, holding out her hand to shake with Zjolnir and seal the agreement.

"I gonna get started right away. You come back wit' another raptor, I teach you how to ride him."

"I'll do that," the orc promised.

She knew exactly which raptor she wanted at her side. The trick would be getting him.


	2. Search for a war raptor: Ironheart

The damp heat of Stranglethorn was a welcome sensation after the dry dust of Durotar. Ryxl disembarked from the zeppelin that had taken her from Orgrimmar to Grom'Gol, taking the winding stairs so quickly that her boots on the familiar wooden steps sounded like a rapid drumbeat. The pack that hung so heavily from her back was filled with a seemingly random assortment of objects - herbs and twigs and stones, leather and dried meat, organs wrapped in enormous leaves that make sticky, squishing sounds, and the cleaned intact skull of an orc female. She did not linger in the base camp that was the closest thing she had to a home. A few skins of water, a bundle of arrows, and she was off into the jungle before anyone could ask her business.

_Home at last_ , she thought as the green shadows enveloped her. A panther made hungry eyes at her from beneath a bush, but she met its yellow stare with one of her own. It lifted its lip and displayed gleaming fangs; she did the same. It growled low in its throat, warning her. She growled right back, but did not just warn. Her growl climbed into a shrill scream, challenging the panther. The yellow eyes vanished; it wasn't _that_ hungry. Ryxl moved on, comfortable in the humid green gloom and amused in the knowledge that the other predators would walk a little lighter in this area after hearing her challenge.

It didn't take long to reach the territory held by Tethis and his packs. An ancient tree with thick, gnarled roots provided her a place to make her tiny camp and she set a small cook fire between the reaching arms of the roots. It was not food that she cooked, however. The concoction of herbs and unidentified body parts that went into her pot of water would only look appetizing to the undead, although only trolls would understand the torrent of speech that accompanied its preparation. Anyone listening would swear she was talking to someone. She commanded. She wheedled. She reasoned and agreed. And when she was done, she swung the pot off the flames and drank the steaming liquid, leaving only the bits of organ and bone behind. Those, she dumped on the fire to hiss and smoke. Then she dug around in her pack again, pushing aside the few items remaining until she came to the skull. With a charred stick she wrote on it: 'Kalika Ironheart'. One of the leaf-wrapped organs came next, a small pattern of puncture marks identifying its contents to the orc who now unwrapped the giant leaf. It hadn't been very old, or very powerful, but the raptor had been purple and that was enough. Ryxl set its heart inside the marked skull before re-wrapping it in the bloodstained leaf and setting the whole thing carefully in the heart of her dying fire, alongside the remnants of raptor bone and raptor brain and other bits unidentified. The last thing she did before settling in for sleep was to slice her left hand, letting the blood drip down onto the steaming leaf where it ran down the sides and sizzled as the flames lapped at it. A bandage wrapped around the hand kept the wound shut and she tied the knot awkwardly before curling up in the hollow where the roots met the trunk. It would be an interesting night.

Anyone watching the orc female would swear she slept. Her chest rose and fell evenly, not catching on the acrid smoke as the skull and heart smoldered over the embers of the fire. She did not move at all, except for her eyes which darted this way and that beneath her eyelids in what was undoubtedly a dream. She was not asleep, however. Her spirit walked through the spirit of the jungle, tracking an elusive target that faded in and out. The spirits of the raptors nearby flickered and wavered like smoke and flame, ordinary and insubstantial. The one she sought was stronger than that, but more clever as well. While she tracked it, it hid itself. The hunt through the shadowy world of spirit continued relentlessly, winding through the vague trees and the shadows of slumbering raptors. Thinking to shake her, the elusive spirit Ryxl tracked led her to the spirit of Tethis, who loomed in this realm as a blue bulk with burning yellow eyes. No doubt this ploy would have worked with anyone else, but Ryxl stood her ground and did not flinch.

_You know what I seek_ , she told the raptor's spirit calmly. _I know what you want. Help me._

They stood like that for a long time, the orc waiting patiently for the raptor to make a decision. The potion she'd drunk left her spirit draped in the spirit of the raptor she'd slain for his heart, and Tethis could not decide if she was orc or raptor. Finally, he decided that he didn't care. He dipped his blue head and she touched his forehead lightly with her right hand, knowledge passing between them as a series of hot, primitive images. Yes, he wanted what she was offering, and wanted it badly. He would aid her; their goals for the moment were the same.

Ryxl woke with the dawn, shaking out the stiffness in her limbs. The fire had died, leaving the heart burned to a charred lump and the skull cracked. She left them there, taking time only to snatch up her pack before vanishing deeper into the jungle. The scalding potion in her gut and the burning in her left hand tugged her one direction; the hot pressure in her right led her another. She followed her right hand.

The trail was easy to find; Tethis had no need to be stealthy in his own territory. She followed it through the jungle, passing clutches of the purple raptors that were his obedient subjects. She watched the males, dismissing the young and the females, but none of them showed signs of being discontent with their stations. The burning in her left hand pulsed sullenly at each one, telling her that these were not her quarry. She moved on.

It took three days to find Tethis; his legs were longer than hers and his territory was vast. The burning in her left hand and gut drew her on and kept both hunger and sleep at bay, something she knew she would pay for later. It was close to noon on the third day when the hot sensations in both hands pulsed once and were gone. Carefully, she crouched behind a bush and pushed the leaves aside with hands that trembled slightly from the starved exhaustion that was sure to set in quickly. In the clearing, a magnificent purple male tore at the flesh of a dead basilisk, completely ignoring the cobalt raptor bearing down angrily on him. Tethis stopped and screamed; the violet raptor looked up irritably and screamed back. The blue raptor-lord snapped at the insolent male; he snapped back. The dominance-fight went on for several minutes with the purple usurper not backing down before Tethis finally retrated in sullen anger. As he passed her bush, he looked at her and glanced back over her shoulder as if to say, _I held up my end; you hold up yours._

Ryxl crouched there, watching the violet raptor eat in triumph. There was only one raptor that color who could come out on top against Tethis. She unwound the bandage from her left hand and stretched the flesh until it parted reluctantly, blood oozing from the partially-healed wound. With her right hand she dug a voodoo charm out of her pack, and smeared it with her blood. The purple raptor was eating lazily, now. With any luck he would decide to take a nap. Ryxl followed him when he wandered away from the remains of the basilisk, watched him drink his fill at the river and then settle sleepily beneath a tree. It took a moment for her to calm her beating heart and remind her nerves that screaming in anticipation was not helpful. Moving as quietly as she could, she glided closer to the sated raptor who would probably have scented her through the voodoo if his mind had not been dulled through gorging. His eyes had just drooped shut when she dropped the charm at his feet, breaking the magical concealment. They shot open again as orc-scent invaded his nostrils, but it was too late. Her hands closed around his muzzle, blood dripping down his lip and into his mouth where he licked at it instinctively. The hunter's magic dove behind his eyes, entangling his will as her body finally rebelled against three days of no food and no sleep and the voodoo that kept the hot potion in her belly. The startled raptor had just enough time to close his eyes before the fetid liquid was expelled violently, covering him in the remnants of the magic that had tied her soul to his and led her to him.

When the hunter's magic had finished, Ryxl let go and fell to the ground, heaving and retching until not even bile came up and she lay there, trembling, for many minutes as the confused raptor wondered what he should do. Finally, she groped weakly in her bag and pulled out a waterskin, rinsing her mouth and drinking slowly until she felt able to stand without passing out. Still shaky, she made her way to the river to wash and was dully pleased when the big purple male followed uncertainly. She washed him as an excuse to lean on him so that she didn't collapse, muttering nonsense to him in a raspy voice. When she was done, she led him slowly to a different tree and made him lie down, something he was more than willing to do, as she collapsed against his warm bulk and weakly dug some dried meat out of her pack. She sucked and gnawed at it while re-bandaging her hand, drank some more water, and gave into the exhaustion that had stalked her for the last three days.

When she woke late the next day, the raptor still hadn't moved but was looking very irritable.

"I'm not too happy either," she told him in a croak. "I could use some breakfast. How about you?"

The raptor grunted.

It didn't take long to find another basilisk, and while the raptor tore into it gleefully, Ryxl preferred her meat cooked. She claimed two legs and built a fire to roast them over, relaxing against the raptor as he lay next to her. He still wasn't sure why he allowed it, but the two-legs let him eat at her kill, so she couldn't be all that bad.

"You need a name," she told him. His tail twitched at her voice, but he didn't stir. She watched him for a minute, stroking his head and neck. "I'll call you Ironheart. You got my mama's spirit in you; she'd like that. Or at least, she'll respond better to it." Ironheart opened one eye and looked at her sleepily. "Yeah, we gonna go slow. My mama wouldn't take any disrespect, and neither will you. But we gonna do it somewhere else; Tethis won't stand for us stating here."

Ironheart just closed his eye.

==================================

When she was certain that the raptor would permit the indignity of being ridden, she took him to Sen'jin for lessons. They were instructed in the basics of handling, and Ryxl was given a practice saddle and bridle to use on Ironheart, with instructions to return in a moon for the next step. Considering the very angry look in her raptor's eyes, she agreed. Ironheart still had not given his full loyalty. Zjolnir also suggested she periodically put Ironheart in a stable for a week or so - once she was sure he wouldn't eat the stable master - and take Takk out hunting to maintain the bond with the black raptor. Ryxl was only too happy to agree to that; Ironheart was brute strength where Takk was agility, and she'd missed him. It took Ironheart four more such visits, each a moon apart, before Zjolnir declared the great purple beast ready for the final training. When asked about Takk, the troll just grinned and said that a work of art couldn't be rushed.

"Now," Zjolnir said as he checked the fit of the saddle on Ironheart's back, "when he feel you on his back, loyalty or no, he gonna run. You got ta hold on tight an' remember da commands. Make him react like he been trained, bring his mind back to you. You ready?"

Ryxl nodded, and wound the reins around one hand. She gripped the front of the saddle tightly, tensed, and vaulted into the saddle. Ironheart's head came up, and the orc had half a breath to clamp her legs tightly around his body before he took off running as if the wind of his passing would blow her away. She leaned forward, fingers fumbling for the reins for several seconds before she got them sorted out and gave a sharp tug to the left. The raptor barked in surprise and turned left, then right as Ryxl tugged the reins the other way. Soon, instinctive reactions faded into the mental rut of obeying the commands that had been hammered into him, and Ryxl had him leaping and turning for the sheer fun of having him under her command in this way. When he tired, she led him at a trot back to Zjolnir, who watched with approval.

"He be a fine mount," the troll said as she dismounted. "But Takk, he gonna be better, you wait and see."

"I believe it, mon," Ryxl said, watering the tired raptor. "But until he be ready, dis one will seve jus' fine."

In his stall behind Zjolnir, Takk glared daggers at the purple brute drinking from the water trough.

==================================

When asked to investigate rumors of a particularly large and powerful Blackrock orc in the Burning Steppes, Ryxl was only too happy to comply. Her hatred for the tainted, demon-infested orcs that refused to follow the true Warchief was matched only by her hatred for the Black Dragons that aided them. The pleasure Ironheart took in killing them was a very close second, however. The hulking purple raptor had inherited Kalika Ironheart’s hatred of the traitor orcs when he had eaten her heart, and he enjoyed killing them almost as much as his master did. The two of them had killed so many Blackrock orcs while searching for this supposed super-orc that Ryxl was considering starting some sort of trophy collection. Contemplating it made for a pleasant distraction while she ride Ironheart from one orc outpost to the next. Ears were easy and neat, but too impersonal. Teeth were nicely personal, but too much work. Skulls were much to large, and by the time Ironheart was done with an orc, fingers were too hard to find still intact. So far, there was no sign of this extra-powerful orc, and Ryxl was starting to think it didn’t exist.

Famous last words.

The camp was like any other Ryxl and Ironheart had been to – a few tents scattered around a central building – and the two of them were cheerfully carving their way through the outer hall of the building when a bellowing roar stopped everyone in their tracks. Hunter, raptor, three warlocks and a warrior blinked at each other for a moment at the sound. Ironheart recovered first, one clawed foot tearing out the bowels of the warrior and charging towards the corner just as the biggest, meanest orc Ryxl had ever seen came around it.

The orc swung a huge hammer; the raptor dodged it and leaped, fastening his jaws on the giant orc’s meaty neck. The hammer’s head made a sick _thunk_ as it his Ironheart’s side, but the raptor just clawed for a foothold and hung on. Through the bond that linked their spirits, Ryxl understood that the raptor refused to let go until the giant orc was dead, even if it meant that he died as well. Ryxl couldn’t help with this fight – she didn’t want to shoot at the orc and risk hitting the purple raptor, but the warlocks…those were fair game.

Rage – both hers and the raptor’s – surged through her veins and she shrugged off the bolts of shadow the Blackrock warlocks were throwing at her. They, however, were unable to similarly shrug off her arrows. They quickly found themselves pinned to the walls, bleeding slowly or with arrows through organs essential to continued life. The fight between raptor and orc continued, both looking worse for the wear as they savaged each other. Ryxl watched helplessly, ignoring the dying warlocks, until a wet chuckle from one of them drew her attention to him.

“Your pet is dead,” the warlock rasped in the harsh accent of Blackrock Mountain.

“What you be talkin’ about, mon?” Ryxl asked, the strength of her trollish accent proportional to her rage.

“That’s Gruklash, one of Warchief Blackhand’s champions, bred by dark magic to be stronger than any orc alive.” The warlock leered at her, bleeding slowly. “The pride of Blackrock, warriors specially bred from the finest orcish stock, conceived through magic to take the best from both parents and born to serve the Warchief with absolute loyalty. Your beast doesn’t stand a chance.”

Ryxl turned her back on he pinned warlock to watch Ironheart battle Gruklash. Behind her, the orc grinned as the bleeding stopped and his wounds began to close.

“Dat be where you be wrong, mon,” she said smugly. “Dat raptah, he be eatin’ da hea’t an’ spirit o’ me mot’er, an’ gainin’ her strengt’. Mebbe you hear o’ her – her name be Kalika Ironheart.”

Gruklash sank to his knees, beating weakly at Ironheart’s head  as the raptor jerked it back and forth, finally ripping the orc’s throat out. He raised his head in a victory cry, and Ryxl was about to add her own, when a blast of dark magic from behind her blew the raptor’s head to bits. As his body fell onto that of his final kill, Ryxl turned and saw the warlock – no longer bleeding – leer at her again.

“Oh, I’ve heard of Kalika,” he said, hands glowing darkly.

The blast took the stricken hunter in the face.

==================================

The world swam hazily around Ryxl, and nothing made sense. A face loomed before her and she frowned. Hadn’t she seen that face before?

“Ah, you’re awake,” the warlock said. “Don’t bother trying to talk, the drugs won’t wear off for a while yet. Don’t try to get up, either – I’ve taken the precaution of tying you down.” One hand stroked Ryxl’s thigh, and anger stirred sluggishly in her at the realization that her pants were gone. “When Kalika took her vengeance, we though the seed of life planted in her was lost to us forever. How fortunate that you came back of your own will, and at an age suitable for carrying on our work.”

_Vengeance,_ something whispered in Ryxl’s mind. _Vengeance._

The hand slid up to caress the bare skin of her stomach. “The warrior chosen to plant his seed in you said that even drugged and tied down, you were more of a pleasure than a duty. I may take a taste of that myself, now that the seed has taken root.”

Ryxl frowned, trying to remember why ‘vengeance’ should mean something to her.

“Oh, you doubt that you carry the seed of life inside you?” The hand vanished, then swam into sight holding an ornate dagger.

_Vengeance. Vengeance._

“The spirits bound into this blade are compelled to obey. The seed of a new life IS inside you, and it WILL be born. You cannot stop it.”

_Vengeance_. Ryxl mouthed the word, seeing golden eyes that glowed red. The warlock laughed.

“Call all you like, no one will hear you.”

The eyes glowed. _Vengeance._


	3. Search for a war raptor: Takk

_Arikara was scared._

_The thought flashed through Ryxl’s mind so suddenly that the orc wasn’t sure what had tipped her off – but a childhood spent in Stranglethorn Vale had taught her to listen to her instincts. She leaped back several feet and crouched, ready to defend against the serpent’s strike, and watched her prey warily._

_There! That funny little ducking motion before the charge, the way the tail came forward but pulled back awkwardly at the last second. The first motion was one that shows submission, baring the back of the neck the way other creatures bared their throats. The second was an aborted attack – a feint, a bluff._

_Something was wrong._

_This was Arikara, the spirit of vengeance. Arikara, whose name sent most tauren into a cold sweat. Arikara, the threat so great that even Magatha Grimtotem, the oldest and wisest tauren shaman, had shown fear at the news. This powerful spirit was afraid of one teenaged orc hunter? Ryxl suspected that there was more going on here than she’d been told – and if there was one thing she hated more than the warlocks of Blackrock Mountain, it was being used as a tool to do someone else’s dirty work. Combined with the idea of bending a spirit of vengeance to her will, this was too good an opportunity to waste. The orc dropped her weapon an tackled the red windserpent, who squawked in surprise and thrashed, trying to escape this unexpected attack. Years spent shimmying up vines made it quite natural for the young orc to clamp her legs around that thrashing tail and inch her way up the serpent’s body until she could clamp the serpent’s mouth shut and look it – her – in the eyes._

_Then the battle of wills began._

_When it was over, Ryxl petted the serpent’s headfeathers and fed her some bread and cheese. Arikara kept her wings tight against her body and her head down, completely submissive and still trembling with fear. There was no possibility that the spirit could try to kill Cairne Bloodhoof, now, but Ryxl still couldn’t shake the feeling that there was something going on that she didn’t know about. For one, the spirit-beast was still terrified._

_Gently, Ryxl lifted the serpent’s head and met her eyes, attempting to communicate. Where Rex gave her concepts and emotions, Arikara added images. The image of the red windserpent’s corpse, combined with dread, was very effective in communicating her fear of dying. The orc made soothing sounds and sent back reassurance until the image faded and was replaced with a more puzzling one: Thunder Bluff as a giant tree, rotting from within. The emotion that accompanied this bizarre image was a sense of purpose and determination. Ryxl pressed for more information, wanting know more about this spirit she had bound to herself. Arikara added herself to the image as a serpent of flame, devouring the rot that weakened the tree without harming the healthy parts._

_The orc frowned. Something was rotten in Thunder Bluff, and the serpent had been…sent? Born? …to cleanse the tauren city. Had Magatha misunderstood the threat and sent her to kill the spirit in error? Carefully, she formed an image of Cairne Bloodhoof and projected it to Arikara with a question: is this your target?_

_The serpent jerked her head back, but not strongly enough to break the orc’s grip, and fanned her wings violently, tail lashing in agitation. The vehement rejection was equal parts outrage, confusion, and respect for the tauren leader – outrage that anyone thought she would be after Cairne, confusion as to why anyone would want to kill him in the first place. Ryxl stroked the agitated windserpent until she calmed down again, reassuring her that no one was asking her to do something so completely against her inclinations._

_Calmer now, Arikara lifted her head and looked her master in the eyes, asking her own question: what purpose did the orc have for her? Ryxl grinned, pleased with the decision to tame this wild, alien intelligence. The image she sent the serpent was of them fighting side-by-side against a sea of enemies that sought to tear down the walls of Orgrimmar and slay the Warchief._

Vengeance? _Arikara asked, golden eyes glowing briefly red._

 _The orc grinned, remembering the wild rush of bloodlust battle brought._ Vengeance, _she agreed._

==================================

“There’s no point in calling for help,” the orc warlock said with a smirk. “No one will hear you, in here.”

 _Vengeance,_ Ryxl thought, still seeing red-gold eyes hanging in her mind. She remembered what the word meant for her, now. Naked, violated, and bound at hand and foot, she smiled.

The warlock arched one eyebrow. “What could you possibly have to smile about?”

“Vengeance,” Ryxl said carefully, fighting the drug that still deadened her body. The one clouding her mind had weakened enough that she had no trouble sending out the mental call.

The puzzled look on the warlock’s face as Arikara appeared silently behind him, and his scream of surprised dismay as she struck and severed his spinal cord, were memories Ryxl would treasure forever.

Unsurprisingly, Arikara was significantly unhappy with what had been done to her mistress. Her wrath took a remarkably thorough form, the warlock slowly reduced to a collection of bloody bits that was truly impressive when you considered the windserpent’s lack of claws.

True to his word, no one came running at the screams.

When the serpent’s wrath had been eased – that is to say, when there was no piece left that was big enough to rip into a smaller piece – she returned to Ryxl’s side and carefully gnawed the straps holding her down until the orc was able to move freely. Or would have been able to, if the drug had worn off entirely. Attempts to sit up failed, and Ryxl wound up rolling off the table. There was no doubt in her mind – which by this time was quite clear – that what the warlock had said was true. She could feel the evil magic curling around and inside her womb, protecting the seed of life that now grew inside her, tying the unborn child to Rend Blackhand. Kalika’s decision to raise her daughter in the wilds of Stranglethorn Vale made more sense, now. It also explained her emphasis on never having children, not to mention the reinforced loyalty to the true Warchief, Thrall.

Ryxl was not one to give up without a fight…and as Arikara’s presence attested, she was no stranger to working with spirits. She formed a mental image of the ritual dagger, fixed it firmly in her mind, and waited until the windserpent stopped flitting around the gore-splattered room. Once the location of the dagger had been identified, Ryxl began the task of forcing her drugged limbs to take her there. Standing was out of the question, but crawling on all fours was equally beyond her abilities for the moment. The hunter wound up propelling herself clumsily across the floor through flailing and kicking, getting thoroughly covered in blood in the process. After a few minutes, she had dragged herself within arm’s reach of the dagger, and was able to fling one arm out a few times until her hand landed on the hilt and she could force numb fingers around it. She could feel the carvings on the blade forming reins of power that let her interact with the structure of the spell violating her. With any luck, cutting the structure of the spell wound break it.

“The spirits give,” she ground out, closing both hands carefully around the hilt and rolling onto her side, “and the spirits take away.” She drove the point into her abdomen, just below the belly button, with as much strength as she could scrape together…which wasn’t much. The spell didn’t break, however, and with a muttered curse Ryxl threw herself into a light trance so she could work more directly with the spirits bound to the blade.

She was not pleased with what they told her.

The spirits bound to the blade were compelled to obey, true, but they obeyed the commands carved into the dagger – not the one holding it. Now that their magic had been invoked, there was no way to undo it. There WOULD be a child born with the best traits of both parents, and it WOULD be driven to serve the Warchief faithfully. The seed of life, once given, could not be taken away again.

Most races would accept the inevitable at this point, but trolls faced with a dead end were more likely to try to find a way around than admit defeat, and Ryxl had practically been raised by trolls.

 _“Which Warchief?”_ she asked, and smiled when the spirits milled insubstantially about in confusion. They had no answer for that; there was no name carved onto the blade. _“My Warchief is Thrall, son of Durotan,”_ she informed them. _“Will this child serve MY Warchief, or HIS?”_ A mental thumb jerked at he bits of warlock strewn about clarified who “he” was.

After some  quiet debate, the spirits came to a decision. The magic had been invoked by the warlock, but he was dead and the hunter was alive, and she currently held the blade. The fact that an angry Spirit of Vengeance was licking its chops and glaring at them played no small part in their decision. The child would follow the son of Durotan.

Ryxl’s grin got more predatory. She had the advantage now, and she intended to use it. _“Does the child have to come in due time, or can its development be delayed for a while?”_

Again, the spirits retreated for a conference. There was nothing in the runes stating that the child had to develop and be born in the normal span of time, and it was well within their power to put the child’s development on hold until Ryxl was ready for it to continue. It didn’t take much pressure for them to surrender and agree to keep the seed dormant until the hunter was ready for it to grow and bear fruit. Pleased with these concessions, Ryxl pulled herself out of her trance. She wasn’t done bullying the spirits in the blade, not by a long shot, but this was not the time or place to do it. For now, it was enough to know that she would not be bearing a traitor child anytime soon. The drugs were wearing off enough that she could stand, and it was time to make her escape.

==================================

When Ryxl finally found Ironheart’s body, it had been tossed onto a rubbish heap. She blinked back tears of pain and rage and tentatively prodded the body with her hunter’s magic – no good, the spirit had long since fled. There would be no resurrection for the hulking purple raptor who had been her loyal companion. Ryxl throttled back her grief; there would be time to mourn later. Grimly, she cut the raptor’s heart out and carved bite-sized pieces from it, chewing and swallowing each one until she had eaten the whole heart. The raptor had eaten the heart of her mother, and now she had eaten the heart of the raptor. Both Kalika and Ironheart would now be part of Ryxl until the day of her death, but it was cold comfort as she made the journey to Sen’jin on foot.

As the village came into sight, Arikara gave her master one last affectionate nuzzle and then faded back into the spirit world. She would be there in an instant if Ryxl needed her, of course, but they had both learned long ago that those with strong ties to the spirits could – and would – see her for what she really was. The orc followed the road to he raptor training compound, not really sure why she was there except that she wanted very badly to feel a raptor’s bulk beneath her hands, and she had no desire to find a new one to tame. To her surprise, however, Zjolnir was not surprised to see her.

“I see you got my letter, mon,” he said by way of greeting, surprising her further. “Since your last visit, when you got that big purple raptor o’ yours to let you ride him, Takk been eager to learn. I think he be ready to let you ride, now.”

Ryxl was only half listening; the black raptor greeting her got most of her attention. Something about the way he was greeting her was starkly different from Ironheart’s affection, and it took a minute before she realized that Takk was greeting her as alpha male to packleader, but without any of the overtones of wanting to mate, or having mated. He was treating her as a clutchmate, a sister.

“He not be wantin’ to be left behind again,” she said absently, returning the raptor’s greeting and wondering how he had come to the realization that mating was not an option. “An’ he not gonna be.”

“What about that big purple beastie you had?”

The hunter buried her face in the raptor’s shoulder, inhaling the dusty, musky scent of him. “He die a warrior’s death,” she said shortly.

Zjolnir wisely did not press the issue. “Come get da saddle,” he said instead. “He always fight me when I try to put it on him, like he be tellin’ me I not be his rider.”

Takk followed Ryxl without being commanded to as she followed the troll, and he glared at Zjolnir the entire time she was saddling him – but stood completely, obediently, still.

The raptor trainer laughed. “Yes, mon, I know I not be your rider!”

Takk snorted once as if to say ‘damn right you’re not’, and proceeded to ignore the troll completely, toes tapping impatiently as the orc got the last straps adjusted. The black raptor was every bit as tall as Ironheart had been, but not so broad or bulky. She had been thinking while saddling him, and it occurred to her that Takk grasped the fact that she was not a raptor. Packleader all the same, but not a raptor and therefore ‘alpha male’ status did not revolve around mating with her. Ironheart had never understood this, and kept himself at a beta male status. He had also never comprehended the images that she used so easily with Arikara, but had never tried with Takk. Time to see if her black raptor was as intelligent as he seemed to be.

Ryxl caught the reins with one hand and turned the raptor’s head so that she could meet his eyes, sending him an image of her riding on his back. The impatient agreement she got back both pleased and surprised her, and she invited the raptor to elaborate on the impatience. She saw herself on Ironheart’s back, as though through Takk’s eyes, and felt the raptor’s anger that this other male was invading _his_ territory. Yes, he understood that she was not a raptor, but she was still his packleader and if she needed something done, it was going to be _him_ that did it – not that dumb purple brute. Once he was sure she understood, he sent back the image of her on his back and turned so that she could mount.

Well, she was not about to refuse such a blatant invitation! Carefully, because she was not used to Takk’s back, she settled herself into the saddle. Takk stood completely at ease, not bucking or sprinting off or showing that he was the slightest bit uncomfortable at having a two-legs on his back the way other raptors were. The challenging look he gave Zjolnir conveyed that having Ryxl on his back was the way things should be, and that there would be trouble if anyone tried to interfere.

Zjolnir had no such thoughts of interference. His eyebrows shot up at the unusual acceptance of a rider on his back, however. He’d seen only a handful of raptors not try to rid themselves of their riders, but they were born and raised by domesticated raptors – never one tamed from the wild. He gave a low whistle. “Ya, mon,” he said slowly. “He be ready for you. His trainin’ be over, you got yourself a war raptor for sure.”

Ryxl guided Takk in a few simple directions – forward, left, right, stop – and then rode him back to the troll. “Do I owe you anything for training him?”

“Nah, mon. He practically train himself after he see you on dat other raptor. You wanna watch him around da ladies, though. He be pretty enough to catch their eyes, and he know it. I bet I get a few dusky babies next season.”

“I’ll remember that.” Ryxl nodded. “We gotta be goin’, mon. Got a report to make.” She through the troll a salute and turned the raptor towards the road.

“Spirits be wit’ you, mon!” Zjolnir called to her as she trotted off, and waved a farewell.

“They already are,” Ryxl muttered, urging Takk into a run he was only too happy to oblige her with. “They already are.”

**Author's Note:**

> Kalika Ironheart was a Dragonmaw orc; the Dragonmaw and Blackrock clans were allies in the years between Doomammer's defeat and the events of 'Beyond the Dark Portal'. She was one of the orcs who rode enslaved adult red dragons instead of immature drakes hatched in captivity.
> 
> Grom'gol in this timeline was founded when two of the ships got separated from the Horde fleet during the events of Warcraft 3 and were blown down the coast; one ship was used to patch the other up, and it sailed for Kalimdor while the remains of the other was used to construct housing for the crew left behind.
> 
> Ryxl is 14 at the time of Kalika's death, in year 20. She is four years younger than Thrall.
> 
> Raptors, according to multiple quests in WoW, are sentient and have a primitive culture. Their language has not evolved past the verbal equivalent of pictograms yet, and a raptor with a name has become so good at something that the sound for that concept applies equally to the raptor. 'Takk' is the raptor sound for the concept of leaping.


End file.
